


We Have Lingered In The Chambers Of The Sea

by actuallyfeanor



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Transformation, Fourth Age, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Valinor, passive aggressive harp playing, some people become crabs to cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actuallyfeanor/pseuds/actuallyfeanor
Summary: The sons of Fëanor are re-embodied in Valinor, but Maglor struggles to settle in when he joins them there.
Relationships: Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë, Maedhros | Maitimo & Nerdanel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	We Have Lingered In The Chambers Of The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Crablor Day 2020. Don't ask, just accept it.
> 
> Am I ever going to stop writing incredibly niche fics and start working on my main WIPs again? Nah

Maglor had been playing his harp for four days in a row and it was driving his brothers mad. In other circumstances, in another lifetime, they would have enjoyed the music, but since his return to Valinor, Maglor had only ever played one song, and hearing the tragedy of their family's downfall over and over again did nothing but bring up painful memories. So each of the brothers tried to block out the noise in his own way. Celegorm took to the woods, straying far from Formenos, and returned with bloodstains on his clothes and a fey light in his eyes. The twins went with him. Curufin immersed himself in his work, barricading the door to the forge and refusing to let anyone else enter. What he made there, nobody knew, but his dishevelled appearance and fevered expression whenever he made an appearance amongst his brothers reminded them so much of Fëanor that they all silently agreed to leave him alone until the strange mood passed. Caranthir, after realising that Maglor was deaf to his complaints, stuffed his ears full of cotton scraps and fumed silently.

As for Maedhros, he was left to deal with all matters great and small in running the household at Formenos. With Fëanor still in Mandos, he supposed might have styled himself Lord of Formenos at the very least, but such titles seemed meaningless - empty phrases for empty halls. He and his brothers had settled at Formenos because it was the one place where they could be in peace. Far from the crowds of Tirion, there was nobody there to glare at them on the streets or greet them with cold politeness only to whisper behind their backs later. With them to Formenos had come those of the former Fëanorian loyalists who also found no welcome in Tirion, and as such there were plenty of people to whom Maedhros could have delegated some of the more mundane, administrative tasks, but he enjoyed the work as much as he was able to enjoy anything nowadays. Running a household in peacetime was nothing compared to the clockwork logistics and strict discipline he had had to uphold in his army at a time when a minor miscalculation might be the difference between glorious victory and bitter defeat, but it was at least something to hold on to, something to keep him from feeling completely useless, wasting away in idleness.

He was seated at his desk, sorting through the accounts for the last year and estimating expenses for the upcoming year, calculating how much it would cost to repair the parts of the castle that had started crumbling in his age-long absence, when a commotion from the courtyard below caught his attention. Looking out of the window, he immediately spotted the source of the ruckus: his mother. Nerdanel had been loath to leave Tirion entirely, having made a life for herself in the city in her family's absence, and so she spent most of the time in the house she owned there, a pleasant, white-walled house with a garden filled with her sculptures, though she often came to visit her sons at Formenos. Maedhros stood for a moment and admired his mother's ability to always seem calm like the eye of the storm, even when said storm was caused by her arrival. Dismounting from the dapple-grey horse, she shook her mass of curly copper hair loose from the ribbon she always used to tie it back while riding, and strode purposefully towards the main entrance after ensuring that her horse was being taken care of by one of the stablehands.

Maedhros arrived at the bottom of the main staircase just as the doors opened to let Nerdanel in, and he soon found himself enveloped in her embrace.

"Maitimo, it is so good to see you! How is everyone? Where are the others? Don't tell me they have all run off to mope somewhere." 

In the months after their re-embodiment, only Nerdanel's naturally cheerful disposition and staunch insistence on keeping up some semblance of normal family life had kept her sons together. It would have been so easy to give in to despair and guilt, to let the horrors of the past take hold in their lives and fill Formenos with gloom and sorrow, but every time Nerdanel came to visit, it was as though the clouds parted to let sunlight in. Empty, forbidding room suddenly seemed cheerful and pleasant. Curufin changed out of his work-clothes into something clean and presentable and even mustered a smile every now and then, the twins became less feral, Celegorm seemed to remember how to be a prince again. Only Maglor had proven himself immune to this change of climate, drifting aimlessly through the house, offering only short replies to questions asked, strumming his harp without thought for melody. It saddened Maedhros to see him that way, especially since he also saw how much effort his mother put into keeping up the seemingly effortless good mood, remaining compassionate and hopeful despite her own well-hiddedn pain and sadness.

Cocking her head to one side like a thrush listening for worms underground, Nerdanel took in the sound of Maglor's harp, drifting through the castle.

"At least Makalaurë seems to be home." She hesitated for a moment. "Have you had any more … problems?"

Maedhros shook his head. "He barely eats and sleeps, he rarely leaves his chambers, and he has been playing that harp without pause for the last few days. But no, not that."

In truth, Maedhros had been hesitant to confront his brother about the harp playing. Frustrating as the incessant music was, the alternative might be far worse. Nerdanel, however, had no such qualms. She stomped loudly up the stairs, her voice ringing out in the empty hallways.

"Makalaurë! Put that harp down immediately and come say hello!"

The music faltered for a moment before picking up again with renewed strength.

"MAKALAURË!"

The harping just grew louder. Maedhros hurried upstairs too, hoping to avert the inevitable collision between his mother's no-nonsense attitude and his brother's deliberate indifference. He caught up with Nerdanel, just as she was about to fling open the door to Maglor's chambers.

"Perhaps it would be best if I talked to him. He does not deal well with people shouting at him."

"Yes, I suppose you are right. But do it now. He cannot keep on like this."

Maedhros nodded grimly and opened the door. The smell that hit him was that of musty old rooms, dust, lack of fresh air. He wondered for a moment how Maglor could stand living like this, but then he spotted his brother, sitting hunched over his harp, long hair matted and tangled, and realised that he was beyond caring.

"Makalaurë," he began softly. "Please, can you at least put down the harp and come eat something."

Maglor kept playing, refusing cast as much as a glance in Maedhros' direction.

"Makalaurë, please. We miss you." He approached his brother slowly, reaching out to place his hand on Maglor's shoulder. Maglor froze and the intricate harmonies he had been weaving on his harp shattered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to …"

It was too late. With a speed and agility incongruous with his earlier stupor, Maglor sprang for the door. Nerdanel, just then entering the room, let out a yelp as she was pushed aside. Without a moment's hesitation, Maedhros rushed after his brother, praying that it would not be like last time, that he might reach Maglor in time to stop him. But Maglor was too fast, rushing down the stairs and out into the courtyard, and Maedhros could only stand and watch in horror as a soft glow enveloped him, turning arms into claws and making extra legs sprout from his back. When the transformation was over, a giant crab stood in the spot where Maglor had been a moment ago. To the surprised cries of the onlookers, it scurried out through the open gates and vanished.

Maedhros turned to Nerdanel and put his arm around her shoulders. Neither of them were surprised by the transformation; they had been there when that giant crab first scuttled up to Formenos and transformed into Maglor, and after the initial shock, it had been surprisingly easy to accept it as part of what now constituted reality. After all, did not Elwing turn into a bird every night, flying up to meet her husband as he returned from the skies in his ship?

"Well, we already knew this might happen," said Nerdanel, pragmatic as ever. "Give him some time and he will return."

In the middle of the night, Maedhros woke from a dream in which someone was calling his name. In the dream his hand was burning, the earth was erupting in fire, and someone was crying out, choking on the ashes and smoke that filled the air. _Maitimo! Please! Don't leave me here alone!_ He knew that he had been there before, that all of this had already happened, and that there was nothing he could change now. And yet, finally awake in the darkness of his bedchamber, Maedhros knew exactly what he had to do. He got dressed and slipped out of the castle, into the night.

The path he took was an old one, disused and overgrown since it led nowhere important. Nowhere that would matter to anyone else, that is. Maedhros remembered the days long ago, before Celegorm or any of the others were born, when it was just him and Maglor. The two of them would often follow that path into the woods, as it curved and twisted through the undergrowth, only to emerge in a clearing where a dark pool reflected the light of the Trees, filtered through the dense foliage. A magical place it had seemed back then, and they had spent hours upon hours there, watching dragonflies skim across the water surface, telling tales of bravery, of Tulkas wrestling with Melkor and bringing peace to Arda. Even from a young age, Maglor's musical talent had been evident, and often he would bring a harp along, filling the clearing with the rapid-fire strumming of some melody he had made up himself.

This was where Maedhros was headed, where he knew he had to go. He made his way through the forest, sometimes pausing to make sure he was in fact still on the path, where branches and bushes threatened to obscure it entirely, and at last he arrived at the pool. Silently it lay under the stars, barely breeze stirring the surface. Maedhros seated himself on the grassy shore and waited.

He did not have to wait long. One moment the surface was silent and still, the next it was in upheaval as Maglor emerged from the deep, water pouring off his shell. The giant crab lumbered onto the shore and slumped down on the grass, where it regarded Maedhros with an inscrutable expression, as far as any expression could be read in those crustacean features. Confronted with this monstrous creature, Maedhros suddenly felt very small and very insignificant, and once again he had to remind himself that his brother was in there somewhere, behind the shell and the claws and the eyestalks. Had Maglor truly spent thousands of years like this? No wonder he struggled to adjust to life on land. Thousands of years at the bottom of the sea, alone with the sorrow and regret, the last of the sons of Fëanor.

The gaping chasm in the earth, fire spewing from the ground, the silmaril burning in his hand. And somewhere behind him, Maglor's strangled cry. _Don't leave me here alone!_ It had followed him all the way down as he fell, that scream of despair. Maedhros closed his eyes and spoke to the night and the stars and the creature in front of him.

"I am sorry. I left you when I should have stayed, when you needed me the most." Through closed eyes he could still see the gentle glow that followed the transformation from crab to elf, and when he opened his eyes again, Maglor was sitting on the grass where the crab had been.

"I am not dead, Makalaurë. I am here. And this time I am not leaving."


End file.
